Back To Childhood
by J.S lover234
Summary: When Watson wakes one morning to find an eight year old Sherlock Holmes he is blown away. How can he bring himself to believe it, even more so, how is he going to get his dear friend back to normal?
1. Chapter 1

Back To Childhood

**A/N: HELLO! ANYWAY THIS STORY IS MY FIRST HOLMES FIC, SO PLEASE BE GENTLE. I REALLY HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE AND I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND THE SUPERNATURAL TWIST I'VE MADE. IF YOU GUYS WOULD LIKE ME TO CONTINUE WITH THIS STORY, PLEASE LET ME KNOW, IF YOU DON'T ALSO PLEASE LET ME KNOW. I AM TRYING TO WRITE AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE NOW. **

**NOTE I DON'T OWN THE WONDERFUL SHERLOCK HOLMES. HOWEVER LATER IN THE STORY YOU WILL BE INTRODUCED TO A GUY NAMED JASON THRONHILL. HE IS MINE. **

**ALSO PLEASE FORGIVE ANY MISSED MISS SPELLINGS AND GRAMMAR. **

**RATING: T (BLOOD AND SOME CUSSING) **

**WARNINGS: NONE**

**ENJOY! **

Watson woke with a fight when he heard the sudden and very terrified scream of Mrs. Hudson and the loud sound of breaking glass from Sherlock's room. He jumped from the bed and darted out of his room, his mind racing through what could be wrong. As he ran for Holmes's room he crashed into something. Said something was the older woman Mrs. Hudson, who was rushing to Watson. The woman fell to the ground with a loud thud and a louder grunt. Watson immediately dropped to her side and helped her up, however he did so quickly. Mrs. Hudson looked around from a moment, dazed and slightly confused but when her eyes landed on Watson she yelled again. Watson jumped and looked at her puzzled and fairly frightened his eyes still weary from disturbed sleep.

"Mrs. Hudson what on earth is wrong?" Watson asked.

Mrs. Hudson pointed to Sherlock's room with a shaking finger. "A burglar Sir! There's a burglar!"

"There's a what?" Watson yelled.

"There's a robber in Mr. Holmes room!" She yelled back.

Watson dragged Mrs. Hudson to his room and then walked to his coat. He pulled it off of the coat rack and reached into the pocket. He pulled out his gun and started back to his friend's room. He stopped at his door and looked back at Mrs. Hudson.

"Stay here until I call for you." He said, and then started back to Holmes room.

Watson entered Sherlock's dark room with extreme caution; the curtains had been drawn the day before. His feet made practically no sound, only the small shuffling of paper when his foot happened on one. He had his gun drawn close to his chest, pointed toward the ceiling. He couldn't stop the slight shake that moved his hand, his nerves almost getting the best of him. He decided in his mind at that point that this was not something nice to wake up to. He turned sharply when he heard rustling in one corner of the dim room. He pointed his gun toward the sound and slowly made his way to it. He noted how his forehead was moist with nervous sweat and how his mind vaguely wondered where Holmes was in all of this mess. Maybe he'd gone out late last night after their case was finished. He snapped back to reality when he heard more shuffling, and this time glanced a dark object in the corner. He didn't fire however, for the dark object itself was very small. Far too small to be any man or even a woman.

Watson looked at the wall above the corner and then to the floor. The wall had bits and pieces of glass stuck inside it and the floor was littered with bits and shards of the sharp materiel. He walked toward the corner and slowly lowered his gun, but not all the way. He looked at corner once again and strained his eyes to see in the dark surroundings. Watson screamed in fright and surprise when something dashed out of the corner and grabbed onto his leg. It was very small but strong for its size. The older man stumbled backwards and dropped his gun, then fell onto Holmes bed, the tiny object still clutching at his limb. Watson sat up quickly and looked down at his leg, his eyes practically popped out of his head. A tiny little child was latched onto his leg and holding it tight, its face buried in the long gown Watson was wearing.

Watson cocked a brow and felt his heart slow down and his danger levels lower. This was their burglar, the dangerous robber, the thing Mrs. Hudson had tried to kill. It was a little child now more than six or seven. It couldn't hurt someone even if it wanted to. Watson sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, he was too old for this. He still gave a slight jump when a tiny voice cried out loud.

"Please Sir! That crazy old lady's trying to kill me!" It said, Watson could now tell that the little child was a boy.

Watson looked down to the boy and cocked a brow. "What?" He said.

The tiny child looked up to him; Watson felt his stomach grow cold. "She tried to kill me!" He said, jerking at Watson's leg.

This child looked exactly like Holmes. From the curled mop of darkest ebony apon his head right down his feet. However, it couldn't be Holmes; Holmes was a full grown man off at some bar doing Lord only knew what. Watson blinked a few times and looked back at the boy; tears were running from his large gray eyes and his pale skin shown in the dim lightening of the room. Black curls laid before the gray pools that shown with fear. Watson felt his heart soften.

"Dear child, she didn't try to kill you. You simply startled her. She meant you no true harm." He said, reaching out a hand.

The boy watched the hand closely, as if it were going to bite him. He gave a small flinch when Watson laid the hand on his head, but calmed when he found John only wanted to give him a pat on the head. Watson watched and felt a small sliver of worry rise in his chest. Why did the boy jerk?

"Child how did you get in here? This isn't your home you know." Watson said softly.

"I don't know Sir; I just woke up in here." He said and it was then that John noticed that the boy was wearing a night gown that was ten times bigger than he was.

It was stained and holes were everywhere along the night gown and it was so big that it was almost ready to fall off of the boys shoulders. Watson felt his brows rise, that gown was Sherlock's. Watson swallowed hard; he was starting to sweat again.

"Boy why are you wearing that gown?" Watson asked.

"I woke up in it." He said, fisting his fingers in Watson's own gown.

Watson thought a moment. "Are you hungry child?" He asked.

The boy cocked his head at John. "Pardon Sir?" He said he said wiping a tiny hand over his eyes.

Watson looked at him puzzled. "Are you hungry?" He asked again.

"Um…yes Sir but-" The boy started.

"Wonderful, then how about we get you something to eat." Watson said.

The boy looked at him shocked now. "You're offering me food Sir?" He said.

"Of course I am." Watson said standing and releasing the boys hold on his leg.

The boy watched him with confusion. "What's the matter?" Watson asked.

"Father never 'Offers' me food Sir." He sniffled, Watson felt his heart sink.

So the boy was abused. "Well come with me and I'll get you a nice warm meal." Watson said with a loving smile.

The boy let a small smile of his own out but made no move to follow Watson. John turned and cocked a brow.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"The crazy lady is out there, she'll kill me if she sees me." He sated matter-of-fact.

Watson stifled a laugh. "No, I promise she won't." He said holding out a hand.

The boy once again looked at it as though it would bite him, but slowly he reached out his small hand. Watson gently wrapped his fingers around the small child's and started out of Holmes's room. When they entered the brightly lit hall Watson glanced back down at the tiny boy and his stomach grew cold again. This boy was Holmes's double; it was truly frightening at how much they looked alike. Now that he was in the light Watson could really see the boy now, flushed little cheeks and puffy red and all. His was very small now that Watson truly looked at him, and he was skinny to. He looked as though a stiff breeze could blow him away. He made an adorable little thing with the oversized gown placed apon his small body. Watson smiled but pushed all of that from his mind as he approached his room. He looked inside and then to the boy when the child suddenly tripped on the gown. Mrs. Hudson was pacing back and forth back and forth, her hands behind her back. She gave a jump of fright when she heard Watson say her name.

"Mrs. Hudson, I'd like you to meet our tiny burglar." He said with a smile and wink, he looked down when the boy hid behind his leg.

Mrs. Hudson watched as the child looked out from behind Watson, his big gray eyes emanating fear.

She looked to Watson shocked. "Sir he looks just like," She started.

"I know. He does resemble him doesn't he?" Watson said. "However he is hungry and so am I. Would you please bring us up something to eat Mrs. Hudson?" John asked softly.

She gave him a kind smile. "Of course, what would you like little one?" She asked.

The tiny boy drew further away from her. "Are you going try and kill me again?" He asked, Watson laughed out loud despite himself.

Mrs. Hudson looked down at the floor with shame. "Oh dear boy, I thought you were a dangerous man. I do apologize for scaring you." She said. "I meant you no real harm."

The boy didn't move out from behind Watson but the tiny smile that crossed his face told that he'd forgiven Mrs. Hudson somewhat.

"Now, what would you like to eat?" She asked sweetly.

"Whatever is easiest for you." He said.

Watson and Mrs. Hudson looked to each other with shock. "Boy, you can have anything you wish. It doesn't matter what it is, I'll be happy to fix it." The older woman stated.

"What the Master is having." The boy stated, looking up to Watson.

Mrs. Hudson let out a soft sigh and made for the kitchen. "Will you need anything else?" She asked both of them.

"No Mrs. Hudson, we're fine, and thank you." He said.

The woman gave a nod and left the room. Watson then moved out and away from the child, looking down to him with a kind smile.

"She's not so scary now is she?" He asked.

The boy thought about it. "Not too much." He said and smiled a small smile when John laughed.

Watson let go of the small boys hand and walked over to his bed and sat down. He gave a sigh and stretched, his joints cracking and popping in thanks. He looked over to the boy, he hadn't moved an inch since John let go of his hand. Watson smile softly and patted beside of himself, offering the boy a seat. The small child slowly and cautiously made his way over, pausing when he reached the bed. He looked at Watson with big gray puppy eyes.

"It's alright, you can sit here." Watson said, and watched as the little child slowly climbed onto the bed.

The gown completely hid the boy's legs and feet and almost touched the ground. It truly was a cute picture.

He settled down next to Watson. "Thank you Sir." He said.

Watson cocked a brow. "For what?"

"For letting me sit here. Father usually has me sit in the floor." He said.

Watson's heart sank again. "Well you may sit where ever you like child."

The boy smiled bigger this time. "Thank you Sir." He said again.

Watson smiled back. "So child, what is your name?"

Watson nearly fainted at the child's answer. "Sherlock Holmes Sir."


	2. Chapter 2

Back To Childhood

Chapter Two

Watson stared at the boy before him, his mind reeling at what experiment Holmes could be performing. What tick could he be pulling on Watson now? Why would he use a child, and how did he find a child that looked so much like him. Maybe he'd put on a false face on the child, or maybe it was just luck on Holmes's part. Watson ran a hand over his face, confused as to what to do. He looked at the child when he felt a tug at his gown sleeve.

"Sir, are you alright?" He asked, his tiny voice even sounded like Holmes.

Watson looked to the child. "Boy, how did you get in here again?" He asked.

"I woke up in here Sir. I do not know." He said.

Watson sighed. "Have you been into contact with a rather tall and skinny man, he has curly black hair and gray eyes?"

"No Sir. I live with my father and mother." He said.

Watson felt sick to his stomach. "Are you sure you haven't seen a man such as I described?" He asked.

"Yes Sir. Sir did my father leave me here?" He asked. "Are you taking care of me for today?" He asked.

"Um," Watson thought, whoever this child was he was clearly concerned about where he was and why. "Yes, your father and mother have left for a while. They left you in my care." He said.

"Do you know my father Sir? I can't seem to remember you." The child said, he talked like Holmes to.

"Yes, I've done a bit of business with your father." Watson said.

Watson thought now that this probably had something to do with the case last night. He and Holmes had been tracking group of 'Wizards' and Holmes had been knocked unconscious during the fight. One of the crazed men had a spell on Holmes while he was down. Maybe Holmes was playing a prank on Watson considering the circumstances of last night.

"Tell me boy, is this a prank?" He asked, unable to hold the question back any longer.

The boy's true look of shock said it all. "No Sir, what have I done wrong? I will leave if you wish." He said, sliding off of the bed.

Watson grabbed the child's arm. The boy jerked violently and gasped with sudden fear, his body began to shake and his eyes became teary again. Watson knew this was no joke.

"Easy Holmes, easy. I'm not going to hurt you. I swear." He said, this had to be a prank, this wasn't humanly impossible!

Sherlock calmed somewhat, his eyes dried but the sudden shakes that had claimed hold over him didn't cease.

"I am sorry if I've angered you Sir." Holmes said, his eyes fell to the floor.

Watson got off of the bed and dropped to his knees in front of Holmes. He gently placed both his hands on either shoulder of the small boy. He still wasn't eye level with the tiny child.

"My dear Holmes," Watson watched with wonder as a strange flash went through the boys eyes. "You've done nothing wrong."

John inwardly beat himself for allowing himself to believe this insanity. For letting himself believe this truly humanly impossible feat.

"I will leave if you wish Sir." Holmes said.

"I will have nothing of the sort. You'll stay right here." Watson said with a smile.

Sherlock smiled softly and calmed a bit more.

"Now Holmes, you said you can't remember anything at all, correct?" Watson asked.

"Yes Sir." He said.

John cocked a brow. "You do not know my name?" He asked.

The boy looked to him confused. "No Sir. I've no clue who you are." He said.

Watson looked at him with wonder. "Call me Watson child." He said softly.

There it was again, that strange flash in the boy's eyes. Almost like unrealized recognition. Watson bowed his head and shook it softly. This cannot be happening. It is not possible. It defies every logical string of the world to believe this. Spells don't work, there just a load of gibberish no one can make out. Wizards weren't real, just fairytales. Full grown men didn't get turned into children because of a spell casted by a wizard. It wasn't real, but here they were, Watson staring at the small child version of his best friend Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock and Watson both jumped when they heard Mrs. Hudson at the door. She had a quizzical look on her face as she looked to both males.

"Ah, Mrs. Hudson, thank you." John said walking and taking the long metal tray from her hands, he placed it on his desk. "You have the rest of the day off don't worry about anything. Thank you Mrs. Hudson Good-bye." John said quickly and ushered her out of his room before she could protest.

He shut it and locked it, then waited until he heard her walk away before he unlocked it and turned back to the tiny Holmes. The boy was watching him with a confused and almost amused look. Once again, it was just like Holmes.

"Let's get you something to eat." John said, walking back to the tray.

He opened the first shiny silver dome. It was eggs, buttered toast, and sausage. Watson looked to the boy.

"Is this alright Holmes?" He asked.

The child nodded. "Yes Sir. It's fine."

Watson smiled softly. "Call me Watson Holmes." He said.

"Sorry Si- Watson." He said, the name rolled off of his tongue with ease, just like it did with the full grown Holmes.

Watson sighed again and waved him over. The boy did so slowly, pulling up the long gown so he wouldn't trip again. John groaned and walked to the door. He opened it and yelled.

"Mrs. Hudson I need you for a moment!" He yelled, he was too old for this.

The older woman walked back up the stairs and cocked a brow. "I-I need you to go and get some cloths. Children cloths. For Ho- …..Henry." He whispered.

Mrs. Hudson's brow raised more. "Please, please. Sorry." John said.

The woman rolled her eyes and smiled at the tiny boy inside the doctor's room. "His names Henry hm?" She asked.

"Yes, please he needs fitting cloths." Watson said.

The woman smiled and winked. "Do I still have the rest of the day off?"

John thought. "Maybe, I don't know what else the boy will need."

The woman laughed and turned around. "Shall I guess at his size?" She asked.

"Yes." John said closing the door again.

He started back at the table and looked down at his tiny partner. "Are you no longer hungry?" He asked.

The boy shook his head. "Yes, I am." He said.

Watson gave him a puzzled look. "Why don't you eat?"

"I haven't gotten permission." He said.

Watson cocked a brow. "Permission?"

"I'm always to ask permission before I eat." He said.

Watson's heart twisted. "Listen my dear Holmes; you don't need to ask permission for anything here alright. You may eat and drink whenever you wish." Watson smiled and softly patted the tiny Holmes soft head.

Holmes didn't flinch as bad this time and Watson felt a little relief. However still deep inside him he felt conflicted about the entire thing. Almost as if fifty percent of him believed this impossible event and the other fifty didn't. The other half just waiting for the full grown Sherlock Holmes to pop up behind him with his arrogant smile and crossed arms. Watson inwardly groaned, what was he going to do with this tiny, petrified Sherlock Holmes? Watson suddenly remembered something.

"Holmes," He said. "How old are you?" He asked.

"I just turned eight Watson." He said, cocking his head in interest when Watson placed his hands over his face.

Watson revealed his face once again and looked down to Holmes. "Let's eat shall we?" He asked.

He couldn't help the large grin that appeared when the tiny Holmes nodded quickly and grabbed his hand, pulling him to the table and their steaming breakfasts.


End file.
